Uh uh huh
Fuck up out my face imma don
whipping night days on a song 
Hella ace spades on my palm
I don't leave a trace 
Uh uh huh
I don't buy face whatchu on 
I put the words up in place like a poem
This ain't no race, marathon 
Uh uh huh 

{verse 1}
Imma self made from the streets uhh
My tunnel vision get my pockets greesed up
Light skinned shawty call her Mona lisa
All you niggas dropping garbage like a pick truck 

I Made some bitches, cut em off 
That shit was easy
We could've last but you done cut me like a snippet 
I want the money all the fame 
You can keep it 
And they used to call me lame screening 

{verse2} 
I ain't finna carry myself as a bitch and 
I kick it deadly with the devil in the kitchen
Might let loose with a nigga go missing 
I've seen blues for a minute I miss me 

I'm hot you not and y'all, don't get it 
And I won't stop its hard, forget it 
I box my cock all on her fatish
I got the notch to all the blessings 


THE CRONICALS OF A INTROVERT (Prod. YZ)

Corry Swayzee